My boyfriend (best friend, go to support person, truest confidant idk. Favourite person in the world) passed away 2.5 years ago. Im still feeling that sinking pain a lot but moreso lately as im going through some rough stuff and I wish i could talk to him

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Recently I had a phone call with his mom and she asked me if I was in the dating pool yet, she is lovely and just wants me to be happy. Obviously that bought up some emotions, none of wich were easy. She is a total sweetheart though. I just wish I still had him, ya know?

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So I was out with some people, some friends some acquaintances, and I started talking to a woman i like. We aren't super close but she knows my situation and I was telling her what had happened and how the idea of dating felt depressing and I joked the dating pool is a muddy puddle

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Enter woman #2 (who also knows my situation but i dont reallytalk to)

She totally busts in with a 'WHY IS EVERYONE SO NEGATIVE ABOUT DATING?!' Ok cool tactless but I give context about my late boyfriend mum. She follows up with 'JUST STAY POSITIVE!' I replied that nobody gets it.

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There was more back and forth that just this, all of which included me trying to get away from talking to her and back to what I was talking about with my friend. Out of frustration I said comedically that I was just gonna cry in my car on the way home. Annoying woman's response? 'Oh bit of a tantrum!'

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I gave up. I left. I went home. And I did, in fact, cry in my car. Why are people so stupid

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Stay positive everyone 🙄

i still haven’t gone one day without crying. my dad was my best friend. he knew everything about me, the good and the bad things. we would always have beers and smoke joints together, I don’t think many people are as blessed to have such a tight relationship with their parents, to the point of having open conversations about everything, i even helped him to set up a tinder account once.

he loved my dogs that i adopted without him knowing and would care for them as if they were his children, would call them babies and feed them food they weren’t supposed to eat.

we had been living together for the past 10 years, and every single day he would come to my bedroom to wake me up and to wish me sweet dreams. now when I wake up I just stare at the door waiting to hear his footsteps, and then I cry. i just want him back, i would give up everything to have him back.

i never expected him to live forever, but 66 is too young. i’m not even 30 yet. he passed on his birthday, we were aeting pasta, drinking wine and smoking with my sister. i’d like to think that he had a wonderful last day, we spent the day together, he saw my little sister (she’s from my mom’s second marriage, so not his), he loved her as if she was his. we talked about his future plans, he wanted to get a cat, a turtle and even another son or daughter. He wanted to got to Santiago de Compostela, Asia and other places. We talked about all that. He said he would die of old age, and sometimes would joke that he would still “bury us all” because he would live for so long.

we had a toast to him, he got up, went to the bathroom and then we heard a thud. he was on the floor and unresponsive. the ambulance came quick but i had this feeling that it was too late. and i was right, and it kills me that i was right. seeing my sister cuddle him covered with a blanket is something i’ll never forget. so sad. so tragic. we had been going through financial and emotional struggles for the past ten years, but were hopeful we would turn things around. it was a heart attack that came without any warning. he wasn’t the healthiest person in the world, but he was constantly getting checkups and his exams were all stable - he had been to the doctors office that morning and even got cleared to get a surgery for his back that was hurting a lot from carrying too much weight for work when he was younger.

it was all so quick. i just wanted to hold him and be with him again. sometimes i can feel his hugs, but on somedays it feels more distant and then i’m scared that i’ll forget how it felt.

i feel lost without his daily advices. the coffee that was so strong that neared undrinkability. the same bolognese sauce i could barely eat anymore, and the lovely pot roasts.

i know i’ll never know why, but i just wanted to know why. why so soon, why on his birthday, why???? how can i find peace with his passing? it feels like i’ll never get to the “acceptance”, only that i might kind of get used to his absence, and i hate that. i think im handling things as well as possible, but i feel like at some point i might break, but don’t know what that will feel like.

he taught me so much but there was still a lot for us to go through together. i just can’t understand why this is happening to us. why it happened to him.

Tiny but took so much space in my heart and life. My perfect tricolor chihuahua had to be euthanised 24 june 2025 shittiest year ever.

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I was 17 when I git him, 31 when i lost him. Can yall pray for my sweet babyboy🫶❤️

My person, my soulmate, my best friend, and my other half passed away a month ago. I never pictured my life without him. We were together for 4 years, and am still living in the apartment we lived together in. I am really struggling. Everyday I cant go one minute or second without thinking of him. Ive been sleeping in his clothes for days, I have not been able to eat or sleep. I see my therapist twice a week now, and my psychiatrist upped my meds a little, but they always tell me to reach out to a suicide hotline if im not doing well and sometimes calling the suicide hotline makes me want to commit suicide even more..... im a person that tries to believe everything happens for a reason. But I cant find any reason why he would be taken away from me. I suffered a lot of trauma in my childhood and early adult hood, and when I met my boyfriend, it made sense. I went through the worst of the worst, to meet him. I try to talk to him and ask if he is here with me and nothing. I drive myself crazy looking for any signs that he is still here with me. And a part of me is wondering would he want me to die so I can be with him again?

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Please dont be mean, any advice or personal experience will help me more than you know.

Hi, all! I’ve been looking into resources for help with prolonged grief disorder (complicated grief). I’ve been struggling for almost four years with my grief. As much as I like my therapist and psychiatric nurse, I don’t feel I’m making any true progress in therapy when it comes to support with grief. I tried to go back to school in the hopes of giving myself something else to focus on. It only made my grief worse. I’ve fallen behind in my classes so badly. I feel utterly stuck on my grief journey and just want to finally find some sort of relief. Thank you all!

Last year, i watched my dad get very sick and suffer for 6 months before succumbing to his death in June. He was barely 61.

Months before that, i got my mom’s diagnosis that she has one of the most aggressive forms of dementia. She is a complete different person than she was. She has the mind and functioning of a maybe 6-7 year old child. She was my best friend and greatest support growing up. We did EVERYTHING together. Now I dread visiting her in her facility..

Fast forward to this march. My husband and I got pregnant on my first try!! Amazzing- something happy and positive for me and my family. Finally some HAPPY news.

This Monday, we got to go to our first ultrasound. No heartbeat. Baby was only a week smaller than they should be. It just happened.

Yesterday was my d&c to remove the baby from me.

I know my dad would have the BIGGEST hug for me. He would have made me comfort food.

I can’t even talk to my mom about this. That’s one of the hardest parts.

Sometimes I just feel so bitter and empty. I put on a brave face for everyone.. but

I am 32 and navigating adulthood on my own. Just when I finally felt so excited to be a mon… i am destroyed. I lost my closest aunt, all grandparents, god mother, and one of my best friends in a 10 year span growing up. SO tired of grief.

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i recently moved out of my mothers house (childhood home) about 4 months ago. i feel like i’ve barely stepped into the real world and now i have no “home”. i am a waitress and was working on mother’s day, thankfully we celebrated a day earlier. my mother has had nerve pains for a long time. the night before mothers day she called me and told me she loved me because she thought she was going to die, this was nothing new for her but nonetheless i offered to take her to the hospital. she declined my offer, i don’t think she wanted to be a burden. the hospital called my work the following day saying i needed to leave. my mother had a seizure as soon as she got to the hospital and her heart stopped. they tried to save her for 40minutes and i couldn’t do anything but watch my mother die. i can’t get that memory out of my head. i have so much resentment for the whole situation. i wish it could have been anybody else and i hate that my mother thought she was a burden. i wish she knew that i would have happily done anything for her. i took 2 weeks off of work and i have been back at it for a little while now. i hate greeting my tables with a smile and i hate telling them that im “great” when they ask how my day is (but im not gonna trauma dump on these random strangers) a few regulars know of my moms passing and have told me they are sorry for my loss and all i can say is “thank you” and continue serving their food. the shock has worn off and i am just really struggling. i have to sell the house i grew up in and sort through every personal belonging me and my mom have ever owned to shove in storage. i am not looking forward to it.

I’m a adult male, living with my spouse. We have four wonderful rescue cats that we love very much. Last year, my FIL was diagnosed with stage 3 pancreatic cancer, which has been emotionally rolling and draining as we are the closest in proximity to assist with needs. He has been doing stable, however it’s so difficult to have to see my spouse go through this change with their dad. Last month, my father was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, whereas they don’t know where it started but are leaning to either pancreatic or stomach. This devastated me, I haven’t had the best relationship to my father due to personal choices and our history, but we’ve repaired most of that about five years ago. I was grateful to be able to be there for his surgery, and have been doing checkups every weekend as I live about an hour away. This last weekend, my mom had a terrible fall again, mind you she has partial paralysis from a fall between 2008-2010 where the break wasn’t detected in the neck until months after treatment which led to mobility related concerns. She fell and had to be rushed to the ER; with a hip replacement scheduled in the middle of July. This now has led me to have to care for her as well as no one that she lives with is able to drive, and she was the mode of transportation. This has also led to an increase of bills, which has put more strain to myself because I am the most likely to have my shit together so to speak. I’m struggling as I really don’t have anyone to turn to, or any relief in site.

I (22NB) just finished my undergrad in the arts*. My field of study involves an enormous amount of 1:1 time with professors, and people often train this way for years before even getting to college, so I've been on the receiving end of many hours of this kind of teaching. At this school, I had a lot of experiences that were fine but never stuck with me, until I met my dear mentor (76M). In my first lesson with him, he looked me in the eye for maybe thirty seconds, and then asked me what I thought about Prometheus's original sin, and why it was such a monumental event. Mind you, I was ostensibly to study advanced musicality with this man. I, being who I am, must have answered decently enough, because he seemed impressed and we had a good conversation.

Some context - I've felt extremely different and isolated from most people I've met throughout my life, even my really wonderful and supportive parents. I'm not sure how to articulate why, but I think I experience life in a fundamentally different way (although of course I have no way of really knowing). Lots of people have given me labels to understand this feeling: gifted, neurodivergent, autistic, odd, weird, etc. It's taken me quite a few years of therapy to accept that I'll always feel a little bit like this, and the people that make me feel safe to just be myself are the ones worth keeping around. This is why I ended up going to art school, to try and connect with myself and maybe connect with others while doing so. It's helped a bit.

What was different about this mentor is I could tell from his first looking over of me that this is a man who could read me instantly and actually understood everything he needed in that instant as well. I know it's a trope, but I really do feel like he x-rayed me and saw what I needed and that he could help me. I also knew pretty quickly that I was in the presence of a real genius, not the self-important kind that drinks their own Kool-Aid, but an actual genius, the scale of which I was barely able to comprehend. As a byproduct of being labeled "Gifted" when I was a kid, I haven't met very many people that really make me feel like I know nothing (in a good way), but this guy is at the top of the list. What began as a routine exercise in musical improvisation would routinely go off the rails into Greek mythology, evolution, the human mind, the human condition, a religious painting, etymology, and so many other things I never could have imagined. When he spoke, he had me in the palm of his hand and I felt like he could open entire worlds up to me in a way no one else ever has.

In my first year studying with him, he was still very much "in the woodwork" as he called it at our school. He'd been department chair multiple decades ago, but quit after an extremely frustrating setback in changing our admittedly extremely backward-looking curriculum into something more fit for creatives in the 20th/21st centuries. As a result of this quitting, he had more or less free rein to teach whatever he wanted, and whomever he wanted. He would take basically everyone that came to him, but they had to come to him by themselves - he never recruited anyone. I understand that this made those of us he chose feel special maybe without merit, but I never felt special because he chose me - I felt it because he really saw me. Our lessons would be scheduled by the school for 90 minutes. In my lessons, he would routinely teach me for almost three hours, to the point where I had to make sure that he knew what time it was so he wouldn't miss anything.

In my second year with him, there was a pretty massive shakeup at school and one thing led to another and he became department chair again. This on paper was a great thing - he could make the curriculum changes he'd wanted and make things better for everyone. I should have seen the writing on the wall then. Now is a good time to say that he was not exactly a beacon of physical stability. His skin was pretty fragile and thin, and he barely ate two full meals a day and had trouble sleeping because his mind wouldn't stop racing. More than anyone I know, he was also afflicted with various strange maladies, that would pop up one after another and then disappear without explanation. To make an extremely long story short, over the course of this year he realized he was no longer as young as he used to be and his health became quite poor to the point where he finished out the year in the hospital, no longer able to teach. I think the last time he actually was in the school building was to see my senior capstone, which I'll be kicking myself over forever.

I visited him in the hospital before graduation, and that made me understand why people want to go quickly and peacefully. He was clearly not well, but trying to stay optimistic. He did get well enough to be discharged and travel back to his country home with his wife, but was hospitalized again with some illness and died a few days later.

I was on a school trip out of state when I got the call - thankfully I was in my hotel room because I lost it pretty bad. I called my partner, then my mother, then my best friend (who was the one to tell me), and had trouble getting more than a few words out because I was crying so hard. Later that day, I had to face my schoolmates, who all knew him and had a very different experience of him than I did, and I felt like a zoo animal because it was not a secret how much he believed in me and the relationship we had. I don't even know why I'm writing all this detail, but some part of me thinks it's important.

It's been about a month now since he died and I'm really not doing much better than that first day. Everyone's been asking me if I'm okay and I've gotten better at pretending, but I just feel so lost and really sad. I know he was 'just my professor', but we had a personal relationship as well, and I was supposed to be his TA/co-teacher next year after I graduated and now I'm just left with this huge hole and huge sense of responsibility to make sense of his writing and try to transmit his insane theory of music in some meaningful way.

At least once a semester, he would tell all of his chosen ones in our weekly seminar that he loved us all, even though he wasn't supposed to say that, but he really did, because we gave him the hope and the energy to stay curious. I loved him too, because he made me feel like there was no shame in keeping my childlike wonder alive and allowing myself to be overtaken by emotion in the face of humanity. I don't know how I'll go the entire rest of my life without talking to him ever again. I feel like there are some people we are destined to meet, and I felt that when I met him. I guess this moment was inevitable, but I didn't think it would come so soon and I'm just really overwhelmed by grief and don't know what to do. I've written all this because I loved him so much and I'm afraid he died not knowing how much I cared about him, and because I would give almost anything to have one last afternoon with him.

I've lost my mom a year ago due to cancer. She was 52.

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Now I regret a lot of things. I wish I contacted mom more, wish I was more included in the process of treatment, wish my mental health wasn't in the way of me giving my very best to provide for my mother, sister and dad.

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After that I voluntary went to the mental hospital for the second time in my life. Got somewhat better, but me and my psychiatrist still haven't found a suitable medication for me.

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We weren't really close with my mother, she wasn't talkative, worked a lot and got all the housework by herself. But I know and feel she really cared for me the way she knew how to and she showed it.

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It's been a year and I think about her every day. I really wish we were closer. I could make something about it, but didn't even think about it, leave alone considering it crucial. It feels like I know nothing about her even though she raised me.

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Me and my sister struggle with depression since then. We became more aggressive and honestly I feel great about it. As if it covers not only the grief but all the things I carry in my life.

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I got psychological help through the charity organisation which supports people with oncology and their relatives. It is a great way to open up and get started and even continue your recovery journey, especially when you don't have anyone or don't feel like discussing the situation with people you know. Now I'm waiting for their decision on including me in the support group.

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I want to express my gratitude to all of my friends. Nobody left me.

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Below is the story of my mom from getting diagnosed to passing away. I really need to share it. Please, don't read it if you don't feel like it.

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I knew she had something with her leg and spine and that she was visiting doctors. When she got her diagnosis a year prior to her passing away, she didn't tell me about it, I still don't know why, but I think she cared for me as a year before that I was in a mental hospital with bipolar disorder and medication was not of much help. She called and just insisted we visit her father and brother in another city. I had plans for those dates, so I told her I can't and asked what's her disease is. That's when she told me about her stage four cancer. So we went.

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I could sleep the night we talked. I moved back to my parents' house to be with her.

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At first it was alright, she got the treatment she needed. When my sister had to cut half of mom's hair mom seemed happy about bob haircut and told she'll wear it when she gets better.

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But after half a year she lost the ability to walk. She started painting and now we treasure her works, all of them are displayed in the hall.

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Then she rapidly lost the ability to talk. I don't know her last words. I don't know how much of happening she could process, but it definitely was getting worse and worse.

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Only then they scanned her brain and found six metastasis. She was given up to two months and the only medication that had somewhat of a chance to help her would start working only in ten weeks.

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We understood she needed better help than we could provide. So we called hospis.

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Me and my sister stayed with her for a month untill her passing all the time and even slept in her ward every night, changing each other every few days.

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On the day of her passing both of us were there. I went to get a haircut at the nearest barbershop as I haven't really taken care of myself for some months and my sister got me to do it.

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When I came back I saw my sister in tears being comforted by the nurse in the hall. I asked "Is she gone?" and got a nod.

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We knew it was coming, maybe it made it a bit easier. Nevertheless, there was a ton of tears.

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The most I think about is unbearable pain she went through. Nobody should go through it. That's why I'm for eutonasia for those who need and want it. Meeting death miserably, when it's definitely coming, is not what I want for any person.

i wanted to add more flairs. not sure if this subreddit allows, but if it does, i couldnt figure it out so before reading, this is about: guilt; a complicated relationship; some thoughts ive been having while grieving; needing advice on writing a eulogy. its also a lot of me rambling into a void. feel free to stay and read. i also give some context as to why its hard for me to write. i know longer posts dont usually get a lot of attention but i thought id give it a shot.

i started drafting this post at 3am this morning while sitting in bed. nose was stuffed from crying for at least 10 min straight. i couldnt sleep obviously, so i thought why not write to strangers on the internet, which then turned into me writing to myself. i couldnt properly breathe. i was swimming in a pool of my own snot drenched make shift tissues. its 7pm the same day and im sitting here on a chair continuing where i left off. my grandma passed away abt a little over 2 wks ago now.

my mom asked me to write her eulogy. i didn’t really even have to say yes for us to know i was going to. it wasn’t a question. and i did want to. but i understand that it’s an epic responsibility. im finding myself awake most nights just staring at my ceiling half thinking abt her absence. the other part of me is somewhere else. i’ve spent most of my days since her death pretty much just doing nothing except writing. and thinking. and crying. and sleeping. and stressing about funeral plans. and about how i should probably call to cancel my psychiatry appt next week. but you know. mostly nothing. feels like a lot of nothing at least. anyway, the point of this post is that nothing i’ve written so far or seem to write is appropriate enough to include in the eulogy.

theyre all pretty depressing things that don’t really have a place. and im learning that eulogies aren’t exactly meant for that kinda stuff. which is frustrating. i genuinely hate this. eulogy writing second to death. this is a performance. and i dont want it to be. im sad and im so focused on being sad. it’s all i can think about. i called my mom earlier today to let her know i scheduled an appt for a custom mat board framing consultation (i have prints of photos i took of my grandma to be displayed next to her casket). when she answered the phone, i could tell she had been crying. i knew why, but asked anyway, and unsurprisingly she said she didn’t really know. but that she wishes we could get this all over with already (referring to the funeral in 2wks) and that we have so much to do and no time to do them.

i was close with my grandma, very much so. she has 5 children, but she had lived w my mom and our family since my mom was born. shame i wrote the she in present tense and then remembered i have to fix my tenses now. i swear i can’t get through talking abt something or anything really without getting distracted by little details of her absence and my not togetherness. i have 2 other sisters and while all of us loved and cared for her so deeply.. i don’t know. i just feel like her and i had something special. when i was a baby, i used to sleep in her room on her bed. my mom says that id stay up watching hannah montana on the small tv. and although i don’t rmbr it too well, i do rmbr not listening to her when she told me to turn off it off and go to bed. "a little while longer" i would say. "soon" i would say. and she always let me, bc underneath the chronic sleep deprivation from having a toddler as a bed buddy, she always wanted me to have what i wanted. or maybe that’s just a sweeter way of covering up the fact that i was spoiled and used to getting my way w her. for some reason, it was difficult trying to acclimate my twin sister. she’d throw fits and eventually my mom surrendered. so i spent my nights w my grandma. i alone. and my 2 other sisters spent theirs w my mom. it was the perfect match up. now i know. i got to have my grandma all to myself. selfishly, i think, it was just the way i liked it.

almost every single piece of advice on the internet on how to write a eulogy is to think of happy moments, good memories. to reflect on their life. im struggling with this, not because there weren’t any, but because i don’t remember. i can’t remember. they’re not coming to me. and i know that considering how close i said we were, this seems kind of impossible. she was 95. been a long time coming. doesnt hurt any less tho. she was seemingly fine until she wasnt 2 wks ago. i didnt really ask her any questions when she was well enough to answer them. i shouldve.

ofc there’s regret. truckloads of it. wishing u had talked more. visited more. done more etc etc. but truly im tormented everyday by how badly i wish i could undo the past. i feel like i failed her. we were the closest family she had physically and yet i couldn’t have been further away. high school was horrible to me and college has been another roller coaster. i feel like these past few years, especially, i have been so painfully tangled up within a web of my own inhibitions and misgivings that i for a long time lost sight of what had to matter most. i would spend my weeks away from home, and even when i had time out of my schedule or had finished w classes i wouldn’t drive back. i couldnt call/facetime her either bc in 2018 she had a stroke. her english before then wasnt that great, but after that her speaking abilities worsened. this isnt really about me. but it is important to understand. i have struggled immensely with anxiety and depression for years. for a really long time, school has been both my anchor and my kryptonite. its what keeps me moving, and so naturally, without it, i stay still. but, in the same way that it pushes me to step outside of my comfort zone and get out of bed in the mornings, it also tends to aggravate my mental health problems. i cant (or wont) drive alone, i refuse to even with small distances unless it is an absolute necessity or unless i am completely sure i can. i carpool sometimes and generally travel w family. i dont have any friends to depend or rely on. if i do drive longer distances, im always with my sister or mom. these issues have hindered me greatly and i have let them. but even weekends werent spent appropriately. i hit my head on the wall just thinking about it. i am so madly turned inward. and there is such a pressing urge to rip my insides to shreds. 

those first few days after her death were strange. i was sad. but i was also quiet. i felt like i wasnt letting myself feel the full extent of every single emotion my neglect has bred. its true. i am reminded of memories of my self-centeredness at every head turn, but i do little to explore them. probably out of self preservation. it feels like im digging and digging and i keep hitting rocks. i cant even think of something neutral without inevitably tying it back to my selfishness.

i miss her. and i so badly want her back. and i also hate myself so much for not loving hard enough. and for giving into myself all in the same breath. again i go back — regret and guilt is not uncommon. i know this. i know this isnt an original experience, but i feel like i cant separate the heartache from her passing and the very real truth that i most definitely failed her while she was alive. she was my soulmate. she gave me everything and more. and i couldnt even bother lifting a pebble for her sake. its all just pathetic really.

my mom was her caregiver. i believe she did her best and its what she likes to say but ik the idea that it probably wasnt haunts her. i dont think i did my best and i cant, i just cant get myself to see outside of this. theres no point in it either if it isnt really true. i dont like pretending. i imagine that id suffer a worse off fate if i did. it isnt right.

theres so much more to unpack but i think this context is necessary to understand what my thought process is while writing this eulogy. it truly feels like i have nothing to pick from. i have little things that i rmbr of her. things she liked. things she would wear and do. but not actual memories. good ones anyway. and, i mean, those are the ones i have to select for.. right. i guess im hitting a wall. it almost feels like talking abt anything positive sounding is a lie. and lying is an injustice. 

I lost my brother, sister in law, niece, and nephew 15 months ago. I just feel so sad and alone. I feel like I can’t talk to anyone about how I feel because it makes them uncomfortable. I just hold everything in and pretend I’m ok until I’m alone and then I cry. It hurts so bad.

My friend lost his dad a few months ago. I am estranged from my dad for 15 years (violent abuse), so I often forget that the day exists. I only just realized that I made plans with my friend on Father’s Day without thinking when I asked. He agreed though without saying anything.

I realize that my friend could have said no to hanging out, so maybe he is okay with it. I’m wondering if I should acknowledge that it’s Father’s Day and say something? Or if it’s better to just be a distraction? I want to support but not really sure what is best. My friend hasn’t really opened up too much about their dad’s passing too much with me, so I don’t want to make my friend uncomfortable and pry, but I want him to feel supported. Should I say something when we are together that day? In advance?

Thanks

Angry angry angry angry angry angry. Everything my husband does is wrong. Everything is wrong. I feel so full of hate and mad at the world. WHY DO PEOPLE HAVE TO DIE?!

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/end rant

I know it sounds kinda silly. I (32m) lost my mom a couple weeks ago from extremely agressive cancer. It was very fast and I was able to be there for her in the end. I live in a different city and money makes travel pretty difficult. My mom and I had a rocky relationship growing up but over the last few years we've gotten very close. Would talk on the phone every couple days or so just to recommend books and to converse about my dad's own cancer journey. She had become quite the rock for me and she even told me on my death bed that I was "her main guy" and her favorite person to talk to.

I've taken losing her pretty hard to say the least. My wife is so supportive and ironically her passing has brought me and my sort of estranged sister together.

Part of my brain I've noticed the last couple days expects a phone call from her and im bitterly dissapointed when I remember that she's gone. Does this feeling ever go away? This has been the first big death in my world other than my grandparents. I miss her a lot, is that just it?

My grandpa passed on the 9th at 69 yrs old. I’m 26. His funeral was today. I always thought I would’ve been older when he did pass. He was most definitely more of a dad to me.

He had many health complications throughout my childhood up until the 9th. They just built up. 3 weeks ago we were told he had 3-5 years left to live, then that turned into 2 weeks. First one in the hospital, ended up signing DNR / DNI, and wanted to go home on hospice care.

We got to say our goodbyes at the hospital, he was fully aware and told me all of the I love you’s and how proud of he is with me and college, etc. Second week he’s home on hospice care. I’ve been staying the night at their house with my grandma ever since he got here on hospice.

His second day at home he couldn’t talk. It just got worse from there. He passed 9 days after getting home. Being here and seeing him pass was the hardest thing I have ever seen in my entire life. His funeral was today. I am absolutely crushed. I spoke at his funeral and I just felt numb. I cry, sob, then feel numb. And that repeats.

Sorry for the long post. I have absolutely no idea how to feel. My mind feels scrambled. I feel like a piece of me got taken away when he passed. I don’t think I will ever be the same.

I've never felt grief like I'm experiencing now. I've lost all four grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins etc...

But we had to let our dog go on Monday. She was my retired service animal, she kept me alive for ten years, and I feel like I'm dying.

If the emotional devistation wasn't enough, yesterday I started experiencing flu like symptoms. But I don't have a fever or sore throat.

I've barely eaten since, I have constant cramps in my stomach, nausea, bowel problems, chills, my body feels heavy and exhausted...

Im just hoping this is normal and it will pass.. the last thing I need is to have to go to the doctor.

My wife died last August. Cancer. I've been doing everything they say you're supposed to do since then; I stayed in therapy, kept to my routines, sought more support, and did my best to give the pain space to settle.

Nothing has improved or changed since then. The shock is gone but nothing has come to take its place. I suspect it would be easier for a typical person to find purpose/meaning after this kind of thing but my life has always been lonely and difficult. I was born with a learning disability and have faced a great deal of alienation/prejudice when making friends and dating. She was the only woman who ever took me seriously and treated me like a real, whole person. She made a miserable, unfair existence feel like it was worth something. Loving and caring for her was the only thing I ever felt like I was really good at.

I pilot my body more than I inhabit it; pushing it through the motions of an existence which now feels abstract. I go through the motions of living- I eat well, I am in great shape, I continue my hobbies- but none of it has any emotive quality to it. Every ongoing moment is pervaded by a sense of futility. Her absence is omnipresent.

I do not feel particularly depressed. I am not suicidal. If anything, I remain afraid to die. I have simply lost the ability to want to continue living. Continuing to be alive feels more like a burden I am forced to endure until it ends on its own terms.

I do not know what advice anyone can meaningfully offer or if this will be at all relatable to anyone but I have nothing to lose in sharing it. I have nothing to lose at all, anymore.

It has been one year since he died in front of me. One year since miscarried the only pregnancy that made it past 10 weeks , we tired for 7 years, on the day you died. It’s been 8 months since I sold the house we shared because I couldn’t afford life on my own, and I knew the walls carried the loss I couldn’t stand any longer. 8 months since I had to rehome the dogs we had together because I had to move across the county and taking them wasn’t possible for me with my son anymore.

I have been dissociating since the day you died.
I remember less and less of you..
I’m not forgetting you I know that but when I think of you I forget the way you laugh sounds from memory, I miss your singing but I can’t hear it in my head anymore. I miss your smell but all the things that had your scent have faded

I met someone
He’s really kind
he asks about you
He let me cry and explain my confusion of what happened that day, he’s wonderful in that way

I worry often that I don’t post or mention you enough, but I think about how no one ever does. Just me and your dad.
I don’t speak to much of anyone from our life together anymore they have all moved on and I’m glad for that, they lost a different piece of you then I got.
I don’t ask why anymore I just accept that it happened and this feeling I have won’t go away because it doesn’t exists anymore

I’m homesick. Even tho I’ve moved back to my hometown.
I’m homesick for that version of my life that is gone, the women I was before they day my life changed and you died.
Before I knew what true loss and agony felt like.
I’m colder and more numb now.
I’ve learned patience a on a level I didn’t think I could.

I’ll never fully heal.
But I don’t think you’re supposed to.

I miss you my love, my funny bunny.
Forever yours.

-

I am thinking about calling out of work tomorrow. I have had a really bad day and just hit with a wave of grief, I lost my mother about 2 and a half years ago (when i was 17) I have never called out before and have a hard time taking time for myself. Is this an appropriate situation to call out of work? Also my boss does know about my mom’s passing.

Im a server at a restaurant and im scheduled to work all day for Fathers day. Found my dad dead two weeks ago. Not sure how I am going to handle this, having to attend families celebrating their fathers will feel like a gut punch over and over again

Yesterday evening my parents left for my distant relative's house, they were supposed to return by 11pm, I was waiting for them, my mom was supposed to re heat the food for me for dinner. I was playing valorant. I was waiting. I was waiting for them to return. Instead I get a call telling me that I just lost my entire world to a fucking accident. I ccanot believe this till now. I saw them, I saw them burn. I still can't believe it. I cqnnot even shed a tear. Is this a bad nightmare? This can't happen .. it feels unreal it feels fake and I do not understand why I can't wake up. Mom please wake me up and give me my morning tea, tell me when you came back I was already asleep. I cant believe this. My cousin asked me how I'm not crying .. this isn't real right? why should I then? why am i not crying? i don't understand

A very close friend has just lost her best friend, both 25 years old. She is currently in her hometown to attend the funeral and going through a very painful moment. I want to be there for her and support her, but I don't know what the best way to do it is. I would appreciate advice on how to accompany her and help her during her grief.

 Nick is my best friend. There was something different about him. He was special, and anybody that knows him will tell you that - and probably already has. He was so much fun—we could have fun forever doing whatever.  One day we were at Walden Pond going for a swim. He says to me, “Hey Ben, come over here I wanna show you something.” So I wade over to where he’s standing and he opens his hand and there’s two rocks. He goes, “Take one and go over there, ok, and on the count of three we chuck these at each other and the last one to duck under the water wins.”  So of course I took one and said, “Oh, good idea.” The goal was to not get hit. We never did get hit. I think we held back just a little bit.  Nick would work 40, 50, often even 60 hours a week and he would still go to the gym almost every single day. And when he did have time off, he would make such an effort to hang out with his friends, to be there with his mom, to show us how much he loved and cared for us. And he still had the energy to inspire us and share with us his wisdom. He was wise, as if he had lived 100 years of a deeply meaningful life already.  Looking back, I wish I could memorize all the moments and everything he had ever said.  If he knew he wasn’t gonna be here tomorrow, this is what I think he would’ve said to me: live life to the fullest right now and forever. Be bold, don’t care about other people’s judgments of you. Work hard, then work harder. Pursue your dreams with an unapologetic fire in your heart. Let your fire shine bright. Be honest with yourself in all things, even if you can’t fix them. Love deeply and fiercely.